


Why Earth?

by Energybeing



Series: Everybody Wants To Rule The World [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-02 03:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4044691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Energybeing/pseuds/Energybeing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha begins to suspect that Loki's plan had more layers to it than she first thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Marvel Cinematic Universe or the Buffyverse, so please don’t sue me for using it. This story is set about a decade after ‘Not Fade Away’ and ignores the comicsand is set after Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

Why Earth?

It was a question that had bothered Natasha for a long time. Why would Loki, an Asgardian (if not by birth), invade Earth?

She had heard many explanations. Because Loki had thought that Earth was a softer target. Because it was where the Tesseract was. Because his brother Thor liked Earth, and Loki would do anything to spite him.

Natasha didn’t buy into any of those theories. Loki had not seemed opportunistic or petty. She had always thought that he had some other reason for acting the way he did. She would expect nothing else from the God of Lies and Mischief.

When she heard that Loki had died, Natasha thought that she could finally answer that question.

If Loki had succeeded in conquering Earth, all well and good – he would have a planet under his control. But if he didn’t, then he could be certain that his brother Thor, do-gooder that he was, wouldn’t kill him. Thor would make sure that no one else would, either. He would bring Loki back to Asgard.

This was exactly what had happened. But it wasn’t until Natasha heard that Loki was dead that she began to suspect that that had been part of Loki’s plan all along.

As a Jotun (if only by birth) Loki could live for an obscenely long time. He could bide his time and wait for an opportunity to escape. If enough time went by, he could even fake remorse and earn his release.

However, what better disguise for a master of illusion was there than being thought dead? Natasha knew full well the benefits of such a subterfuge. As long as he was careful, Loki could do anything he liked. He could assume the guise of just about anyone and walk around Asgard as a free man. He could advance whatever machinations he had up his sleeve with no one else knowing a thing.

It was some months after the fact that this news reached Natasha. She didn’t know if it was because Fury had been keeping the information close to his chest or if S.H.I.E.L.D. simply hadn’t known, but it wasn’t until after Hydra had emerged and S.H.I.E.L.D. disbanded that Natasha heard about it.

While this meant that she couldn’t relay her theory to Fury and possibly take a team to Asgard in order to try and oust Loki, it did mean that she was free to go herself. She’d thought she had beaten Loki at his own game once before, when she had revealed his plot to use the Hulk to wreak havoc. As it turned out, he’d been using her. She would like to have a chance to get her own back.

The fact that she would have to go to an alien city was just a bonus. Now all she needed to figure out was how to get there.


	2. Chapter Two

The Watchers’ Council had refused to be affiliated with S.H.I.E.L.D, despite pressure from various other organisations. Natasha suspected that they would have been forced to come under S.H.I.E.L.D’s aegis if it wasn’t for the fact that they were very, very good at what they did, and also incredibly secretive. Well, the fact that they had a great deal of influence with practically every major government on the planet helped too. She wouldn’t even have known that they existed if it wasn’t for an… interesting few days that she had spent in Africa a few years back. 

However, although she was fairly certain that having such a large organisation that dealt with the things it did not being part of S.H.I.E.L.D had been a major thorn in Fury’s side, Natasha supposed that it was a good thing that they had remained independent. Natasha didn’t want to think about what would have happened if they had been infiltrated by Hydra

Still, the Council was still around, uncompromised. If anyone was capable of getting her to Asgard, it would be them. However, she didn’t have access to the kind of resources she had had as an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, so it would be might be a little challenging to actually get access to anyone in the Council that would be willing to talk to her, let alone send her to another realm.

~*~

A few days later, Natasha was standing in front of a woman who looked to be in her late twenties, and another woman who could have been thirty or three hundred. While Natasha was incredibly good at reading people, her skills depended on the person being human (or in the case of the Asgardians, at least acting like one). She couldn’t get a read on the blue-haired, blue-eyed and, in certain places, blue-skinned woman.

“You know,” Dawn said thoughtfully “When we saw the footage from New York, we all thought that Xander was lying when he said he’d met the Black Widow.”

Natasha didn’t reply. She hadn't been best pleased when the situation in New York had instantly made her a celebrity, even though she and Clint had been the least known of the group and had been keen to keep to the shadows. The aftermath of Hydra's attempt to hijack the three helicarriers had only served to make her even more well-known. It had made her vanishing act a little more difficult.

“Still, I’m guessing that you’re not here to reminisce.” Dawn surmised. “What can we do for you, Ms Romanoff?”

Now came the crux of the matter. The Council hadn't been around when Loki had invaded – aliens weren’t really their thing – but she was pretty sure that they would be against having someone who had proved hostile to Earth in the past walking around free in Asgard and capable of causing all kinds of trouble. Unfortunately, Natasha didn’t know for sure. They hadn't ever involved themselves in anything other than their specialist field.

“I need to get to Asgard.” Natasha said simply.

Illyria’s expression changed, which mildly surprised Natasha. Natasha had met people who, whether it was because they were trying to hide something or it was just because that was the way they had been trained, had impassive expressions. In Illyria’s case, Natasha had thought that was just what she looked like. However, it seemed that it wasn’t, and it looked like her impassive face just meant that she was bored. Interestingly, she seemed to have gained Illyria’s attention now, and she hadn't even said why she wanted to go to Asgard yet.

Dawn briefly glanced at her companion, apparently noticing the same thing Natasha had, before looking back at Natasha. “Why?”

Natasha briefly explained why she thought that Loki was alive. She didn’t think she needed to explain why Loki being free was a bad thing. The Council hadn't gotten to the position it had without being able to figure things like that out.

Before Dawn could reply, Illyria leant forward and tapped Natasha in the hollow of her throat.

From Dawn’s perspective, it wasn’t exactly teleportation, or even opening a portal. It had looked like space had briefly folded in on itself, and when it had unfolded Natasha hadn't been standing there.

Dawn blinked, taking a moment to recover from the nausea that had come from seeing the room ripple before saying to Illyria “How long have you been able to do that, Blue?”

“It would be impolitic for me to share the extent of my abilities.” Illyria said stiffly.

Dawn sighed, and decided not to bother explaining the concept of an ally to the Old One. She’d already done so at least three million times. At least Natasha was in Asgard. Well, probably. She hadn't thought that Illyria was capable of such a feat, so it was entirely possible that she had sent Natasha somewhere entirely unexpected. Dawn made a mental note to ask Willow to check it out.

~*~

If merely seeing Natasha being transported to Asgard had been enough to make Dawn feel nauseous, it was much worse for Natasha herself. She felt as though she had been stretched incredibly long and incredibly thin. When she actually appeared in Asgard, she briefly felt as though her chin was about an inch above her shoes before her sense of proprioception rectified herself. Even so, it took some effort for her not to stumble, as the floor seemed to be shaking. Or maybe she was. She couldn’t tell. Quite frankly, she thought she was doing well standing upright and not voiding the contents of her stomach everywhere.

It took a few seconds before Natasha recovered enough to notice that she was standing in what looked like a throne room, surrounded by people who wouldn’t have looked out of place in mediaeval England. It looked like she had disturbed some kind of ceremony.

“Tell me, citizen of Midgard, how came you to be here?” a deep masculine voice said softly. Natasha’s eyes were instantly drawn to the speaker, a large man sitting on the throne. Odin, she supposed. She could certainly see the resemblance. He even had the same aura of power as Thor did.

“I think that your son might be alive.” Natasha said, her voice sounding weak to her own ears.

“I am fully aware that Thor is alive, Midgardian. He dwells even now on your planet, shirking the duties of his realm.” Odin said. Despite his words, Natasha got the distinct impression that Odin wasn’t entirely displeased with his son’s actions. She hadn't known that Thor was on Earth, though. She wondered if Fury had known. She suspected he had.

“I do not speak of Thor, Milord.” Natasha said, consciously slipping into the archaic mode of speech that the Asgardians seemed to favour. She might as well try to fit in. If she did, it would make her task all the easier. “I mean your adopted son, Loki of Jotunheim.”

The room had been filled with the gentle murmur of Asgardians discussing her peculiar mode of arrival and what she might be doing there. Now they were suddenly silent.

Odin’s expression darkened. “Loki is dead. We burned his body. He turned from his Jotun heritage and died as a true son of Asgard. Do not befoul his memory by speaking such lies.”

They’d burnt the body. It would be a perfect cover – Loki could easily have cast an illusion on another body, or even on a log if he felt like it. And with no body to check, no one would ever suspect that Loki was still alive.

However, she could tell that she wouldn’t be able to convince Odin of that. Natasha could tell, just by looking at him, that Odin wouldn’t even admit the possibility that Loki was still alive. He had reconciled himself to the fact that an embarrassment to himself and a threat to his family had been eliminated.

“Wait.” Natasha turned to see a woman in armour with a double-bladed spear strapped to her back pushing through the crowd. “All-Father, it would be foolish not to consider the possibility that Loki has deceived us. It would not be the first time that we thought him dead.” Sif said.

Odin looked troubled by this. “You speak truly, but I saw his body. It was Loki.”

Sif was clearly unwilling to suggest that her king was capable of being fooled, so Natasha said “Loki was – is a master of illusion. It is possible that he deceived you.”

“It is possible.” Odin said in a tone that suggested that he thought it wasn’t. “But why would he do such a thing?”

“A play for the throne.”

Odin spread his arms wide. “Then why has he not acted? It has been months since his death, and there has been no indication that he still lives, let alone any attempts to usurp my power.”

“There wouldn’t have been All-Father.” Sif said. “Loki would not strike unless he had a multitude of plans available to him. He would not strike unless he was sure of success, for fear of what you would do to him.”

Odin looked very much like he would like to order Natasha be escorted away and transported back to Earth, but he thought better of it. That was interesting, Natasha thought. “Very well. If Loki does still live… yes, I will allow you one week to discover him. If you do not, then I suggest that this means that he is not here to be found.”

Natasha inclined her head in acceptance. It was better than she had expected. She had been sure that Odin would throw her out. She knew from Thor that Odin trusted Sif, so she could only assume that her lending her voice to Natasha’s argument had been the deciding factor. She wondered if Sif had previously come to the same conclusion that Natasha had.

It was a place to start, at least.


	3. Chapter Three

“Sif, escort the human to her living space.” Odin said. “I have business to attend to.”

Although she was curious to discover what that business might be, Natasha followed Sif without saying anything. She wasn’t particularly surprised when a pair of men dressed similarly to Sif appeared and began walking with them.

“This is Fandral and Volstagg.” Sif said. “I can only assume that you are Natasha Romanoff. Thor told us about you.”

Natasha realised that she hadn't actually ever given her name. It would have been useful, she supposed, if no one had recognised her. That would mean that there would have been a chance for Loki to give himself away. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what Thor had said. “Yes, I am. He told me about you three, as well.”

“He said that you could fight.” Fandral said, clearly amused by the concept until he caught Sif glaring at him coldly with her hand reaching for her spear.

Sadly, Illyria had transported Natasha here without giving her the time to bring anything. This meant that she only had a smattering of knives and a couple of guns secreted on her person, and she had no way of replacing her ammunition. She doubted that a gun would do all that much against an Asgardian, but it would certainly show them that she wasn’t some fragile maiden. Of course, she could play the weak damsel card – Loki would be the only one to suspect that she was acting – if only Thor hadn't told these people about her.

“Don’t mind him.” Sif said, still glaring at Fandral. “He’ll probably challenge you at some point. He’s had a little trouble adjusting to womenfolk besting him. He's still sore from that time that I bounced him off the walls.”

Fandral frowned. “I don’t recall that. Which time do you speak of?”

Sif smirked. “Any time we’ve ever sparred.”

Before Fandral could counter, Volstagg interjected. “I hear that there is a banquet later. Perhaps we could hurry up before it’s all eaten?”

Fandral clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax! It would take a legion of men such as yourself in order to devour a banquet thrown by Odin. There will be plenty of time for food for you.”

~*~

Odin walked alone to Heimdall’s post guarding the Bifrost. He grinned, remembering the day that he had forced Thor to shatter it. Of course, he had been wearing a different face in those days. Perhaps there could be a time when he could return to it, but Odin, previously known as Loki, couldn’t envisage a way in which that would ever be possible. So he kept Odin’s face at all times.

Despite this, he was always somewhat wary of visiting Heimdall. Heimdall’s senses were incredibly acute – if anyone was going to uncover his deception, it would be him. Certainly not that red-haired Midgardian wench. Still, he had need of those acute senses now. Hence the visit.

“How did she get here?” Loki said, without preamble. He didn’t bother to explain who he was talking about. He knew that there were ways to avoid Heimdall’s sight, but they were few and far between.

“It was very strange.” Heimdall replied. “It seemed as though there was a distortion, a rippling that echoed throughout space. I have never seen the like.”

“Yes, yes.” Loki said testily. “But I need to know how it was done. If someone can enter the throne room like that, then nowhere on Asgard is safe. What dark magic was employed?”

“I am fully aware of the implications to our security. I remember the Frost Giants that your adopted son smuggled past me.” Heimdall said blandly. “But I do not know how the transportation was effected. It would appear that the Midgardian was sent here by something known as an Old One.”

Loki blinked, as much as it was possible to do that with only one eye. “Surely it cannot-“

“No. She does not seem to be on the same order as them. But then I would not have supposed that she was capable of transporting someone in the way that she did, either. I will watch proceedings on Midgard, and inform you if I see anything conclusive.”

“Good. You do that.”

Odin left, leaving Heimdall to observe events back on Earth.

~*~

Willow stared at the space that, according to Dawn, had recently been filled by Natasha. “You’re sure that Illyria teleported her?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “No. I could be mistaken. Come to think of it, there were a lot of blue people around that day – I guess I could’ve gotten them mixed up…”

“Very funny.” Willow said, frowning. She tentatively raised her hand, pushing it at the air in a half-hearted gesture before letting it drop back down to her side.

“What’s the problem?” Dawn said, seriously. She’d get in big trouble if it turned out that Illyria had sent Natasha to somewhere completely different. Or, come to think of it, if Illyria got her powers back and then went nuclear.

It was a good question, Willow knew. In terms of magic, Willow was very, very good at the practical aspect, but not so much with the sensing. She guessed that she was like Buffy in that regard – even amongst Slayers, Buffy was a good fighter, but she very rarely, if ever, sensed demons when they were around. If Willow focused, she could normally feel a slight tingling sensation on her skin if magic had been done in the vicinity. Here, she couldn’t feel anything. “Have you asked Illyria what she did?”

“Do I really have to roll my eyes and say something sarcastic again, Will? Of course I asked her, but you know Blue. It’s like getting a massage from the First.”

Willow blinked, thrown by the unusual analogy. “Well, whatever she did, it wasn’t magic. I can figure out where Illyria sent her… probably… but I don’t know how she did it. Maybe you could try asking her again?”

“Maybe if I left her in a room alone with Andrew and promised to let her out if she told me…” Dawn said thoughtfully.

Willow grinned. “I think she’d probably use Andrew as a battering ram to break out before she would say anything.”

Dawn waved a hand at the empty space. “Go ahead. Do your thing. See if you can figure out where the Black Widow ended up.”

Willow hesitated. She was fairly sure that she could work out where Natasha had gone, but it was darker magic than she liked using these days. It wasn’t out and out black magic, but it was definitely on the darker shade of grey. On the other hand, it wouldn’t actually hurt anyone, so…

Willow held out her palm, and a little disc that seemed to be made out of light appeared on it. It always irritated her that spells on the darker side of the scale were so easy to cast, whilst white magic meant that she had to memorise chants and hand gestures. It didn’t seem fair.

The disc floated gently towards the spot where Natasha had stood. As it did so, it became distorted, its shape being warped by the eddies of the disturbance that was undetectable to Willow’s magical sense.

Then it disappeared, and Willow hunched over as though she had been punched in the gut. This was because that was more or less how she felt.

Dawn instinctively reached out towards her, only to recoil as she felt the sheer cold that Willow was suddenly radiating. Water was condensing out of the air and freezing in Willow’s hair, and her lips were turning blue and her teeth were chattering. She looked like someone who had been out wondering through the Arctic tundra for days. Willow, for her part, didn’t even seem to have noticed. Her eyes were focused on something that Dawn couldn’t see.

Then, suddenly, she blinked, and the cold stopped. Willow straightened, hand going to her hair, coming away wet. “Wh-what happened? Why is it suddenly freezing?”

Dawn shrugged. “I don’t know. Your little disc thing vanished, and then boom, instant ice age.”

Willow frowned. She guessed that the cold was an unintended side effect of the spell. Well, she certainly wouldn’t be using it again. She shivered. She was a Californian girl. She didn’t do well with cold.

“Anyway, what did you see?” Dawn said curiously.

Willow shrugged. “Vikings. You know, horny helmets, drinking from horns, feasting, that kind of thing.”

Dawn grinned. “Certainly sounds like a lot of horns.”

Willow groaned. Dawn had definitely been spending too much time with Faith.

~*~

Natasha was being led to the banquet hall after having been shown her rooms when there was a slight earthquake, barely enough to rattle a tea cup. Natasha didn’t pay it any mind – she’d been in worse – but her companions paused.

“I do not like these tremors.” Volstagg muttered.

“How did you get here, anyway?” Sif said suddenly. She’d been so preoccupied with Natasha’s theory that Loki was still alive that she hadn't given any mind to how Natasha had managed to get to Asgard to give that theory.

Natasha blinked. They'd been discussing what Loki might be up to, and the sudden shift was a little disorientating. On top of that, it had seemed like there was a link between the earthquake and her arrival, at least in Sif’s mind. “Was there a quake when I got here? I thought that was just me.”

Sif nodded. “Asgard does not have quakes.” She stumbled a little over the unfamiliar word. “But there was one when you appeared.”

Natasha thought about that a bit. She wondered if Illyria had caused some kind of shift on Asgard by transporting her here. She also wondered about the geology of Asgard, if it didn’t get earthquakes. Or asgardquakes, she supposed. Stark probably had a legion of geologists that would kill to find out.

Still, there was nothing she could do about that. She didn’t even know for sure what was causing the quakes. For all she knew, Loki could be behind it. She should just get on with the task at hand.


	4. Chapter Three

Natasha was having a conversation with the Warriors Two and Sif about who Loki could be masquerading as (Fandral was making a convincing case that Loki would be a servant or someone below regard, but Sif thought Loki was too proud for that. Volstagg, meanwhile, thought that the food was excellent) when some sort of courtier appeared at her elbow and obsequiously announced that Odin demanded her presence at the high table.

She went. Of course she did. Even though she fully expected this to be a waste of time, because Odin didn’t want her there and didn’t think she could find Loki if he was even on Asgard at all. She still needed to stay on Odin’s good side. Besides, if Sif was right and Loki had been unable to stomach acting as a servant, what better way to find him than to observe the others who sat at Odin’s table?

However, as she drew near, the first thing that Natasha saw was the way that Odin ate. It wasn’t exactly dainty – it couldn’t be, really, given the type of food and the general table manners of the average Asgardian – but it was orders of magnitude neater than the way that Volstagg had been inhaling his food, for example. She thought that was interesting. Given that the Asgardian that Natasha could claim to know even slightly well was Thor, who certainly seemed to be the centre of every room he went into (as long as it didn’t contain Stark), it surprised her to see that his father, the king, was comparatively restrained.

“I’m understand that some of your kind recently captured and returned the enchantress Lorelei.” Odin said without preamble, even before Natasha had sat down. “I wish to thank you for that.”

Natasha nodded, keeping her face carefully blank. She had no idea what Odin was talking about, but if it got her greater access to the people of Asgard, then so much the better.

“Asgard has been going through some difficulties, recently. After the actions of… and the Dark Elves, there has been turmoil throughout the realms. The support of Midgard has been worth much, in these times.”

“I am glad that we could be of help.” Natasha said. She thought she knew what Odin was angling towards, but what interested her was that he had avoided saying Loki’s name. She wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“However, the realms are stable now. We wish to return the favour. I am certain that some Asgardian warriors could prove to be a great help to you in your struggle against Hydra.”

Natasha had been right. Odin wanted to show his strength, and, as a bonus, get her back on Earth, because she just knew that he was going to suggest that she be the one to direct the efforts of the Asgardians. On top of that, it would also gain him a lot of support from the people of Earth, should he ever need them to return the favour.

All of that made sense. At least, it made sense if Odin had been a political leader on Earth. But even Thor, who was used to humans, still saw his species as superior. There would be no reason for a supposedly superior species to aid Earth – they simply wouldn’t care. They had ruled Earth, after all, thousands of years ago. Working alongside humans now, taking orders from them, wouldn’t go down well. Even if Odin commanded them to. And Odin would know that, so…

Natasha didn’t pause, or blink, or smile. “Thank you for your offer. I’ll relay it once I return to Earth.”

~*~

“Why’d you do it, Blue?” Dawn asked. It was the first time that she had asked that particular question. Both she and Willow had tried to get Illyria to tell them how she had transported Natasha, but given that Illyria was about as stubborn as, well, a God-King, they hadn't been able to get anywhere. Hence the new approach.

“The actions of your kind are impenetrable to me.” Illyria said stiffly. “Someone comes to you requiring something to be done. I do it. Why is it necessary to admonish me in this way?”

“Trust me, there’s no admonishment going on here. Not even a little. We don’t mind that you did what you did… well, we do, but only because we don’t know how you did what you did.”

Illyria continued as though Dawn hadn't spoken. “Many times you have told me that I should not be so selfish” she said the last word as though it was a foreign word and she didn’t really understand what it meant ”and that I should think of others before I act. I have done so. Why then do you continue speaking?”

“I know this might be a little difficult for you to grasp, Blue, but I'm glad you sent the Black Widow where she wanted to go. The problem is, you shouldn’t have been able to do that. Your powers were drained. You’re strong, you’re fast, but you can’t transport people to another realm. Except you just did, so we’re trying to figure out how.”

“Would it please you if I said that my powers have been slowly returning to me since the Battle of Los Angeles?”

Dawn sighed. “It would have, about an hour ago. But now I’d think that you were just saying that so that I’d leave you alone so you can do whatever it is you do when you’re alone.”

“Your kind is as far beneath me as the microbes which cling to your shoes are to you. I have no need for duplicity. Your constant questioning irks me. Cease.”

“Seriously? I thought you’d at least toned down the whole haughty ruler thing, after living with us for about ten years now. Surely you’ve gotten used to us by now?”

“One cannot adjust to being made less.” Illyria said simply. “Diminishment of any kind is something to be rectified.”

“Yeah, well, I wish I knew what to make of that.” Dawn said to herself. “See you tomorrow, Illyria. Try not to teleport anyone else.”

~*~

After a minute pause, Odin said “There is something else that I wish to speak to you about. Something less practical.”

“Yes?”

“Do you believe that redemption is possible, Agent Romanoff?”

Natasha didn’t do well with surprise. She had spent most of her life as a spy – it had been her job to find out what other people knew so that they couldn’t surprise her with it. There had, of course, been times when she had had been taken by surprise, but she was good at thinking on the spot and she normally wasn’t surprised for long.

She couldn’t even remember the last time that she had been floored by a question. It wasn’t just that it was the first time that Odin had even said her name, or that it had been months since she had been called Agent and that it reminded her of better times, or that she had been beginning to suspect that Loki had in fact infiltrated the highest branch of Asgardian society and then had come out of nowhere with a question like that, or even that the nature of the question itself. Although all of that played a part.

Natasha would be the first to admit that she had done some bad things. No one knew that better than her. She had tried for years to make what she had done right. Then along came Hydra, and suddenly everything she had done for Fury had been corrupted. It was possible that every mission she had ever carried out had been subverted, used to further the goals of that neo-Nazi organisation. She was back at square one – or, perhaps, even further back than that. The question struck a chord.

She chose her words carefully. “Yes. I think – I believe it is. But not if you go looking for it, not if everything you do is directed towards that goal. It isn’t something you can get, something you can grab. It comes upon you unawares.”

Odin, or possibly Loki, looked like he was about to reply when he was cut off by the shrill squeal of some kind of alarm. “What’s that?” Natasha shouted, trying to be heard.

“Intruders at the gate.” Odin replied shortly. He’d ordered the alarm installed shortly after the fiasco with the Dark Elves. “Come. You will see what happens to everyone who opposes the might of Asgard.”


	5. Chapter Five

As it turned out, Odin was wrong. There weren’t intruders at the gates. According to the biosign scanner that the Asgardian technicians had hooked up, there was just one. Natasha followed Odin up onto what looked like some kind of look-out post (one of many, she saw). She wondered how it could be that just one life form could set off the alarm for the entire city. It sounded like it wasn’t working properly.

However, when she actually reached the outpost, she saw why.

There was just one life form, apparently, but it had brought a storm with it. A blizzard, to be precise. The sort of blizzard that, if you had the misfortune to be caught in it, you could die within feet of safety and never even know it was there. It looked like a wall of white had enveloped the city. Natasha assumed that only some kind of advanced shield was keeping it at bay.

Odin, paying no attention to the storm, walked over to what looked like a round window set just above the wall of the look-out post. It seemed to be suspended in mid-air. Odin gestured at it, and it suddenly it showed something else. It must be something like a magnifying glass, Natasha supposed.

Not that she was particularly interested in Asgardian technology. She was rather more concerned with what the window was now showing.

It was a figure. Humanoid, although with the swirling blizzard behind it she couldn’t tell how big it was. It was a sort of greyish colour. For some reason, the sight of it made Natasha think of ice that had been frozen for so long that it had petrified, becoming harder than stone.

“That would be a Frost Giant, then?”

“A Jotun.” Odin corrected absently. “It would seem so.” 

Natasha remembered Thor telling her that Loki was a Frost Giant, the son of their king, who Loki had in fact killed. She wondered if she had been wrong in thinking that Odin might be Loki. If you’re going to make a power base, why not start on a world that you were king?

“Why’s it here?”

“I don’t particularly care.” Odin said shortly. “I’m more interested in how it made that storm.”

“So I’m guessing not all Frost Giants can do that.”

“You met Loki. Do you truly believe that you could have stood against him if he had powers like that at his command?”

Natasha looked at the blizzard. She was Russian, or had been. She was no stranger to the sort of weather her homeland could conjure up. This was worse. Much, much worse. If Loki had summoned something like this on the helicarrier…

Odin made another gesture at the window. This time it showed a man in golden armour. “Heimdall. What do you see?”

“Nothing. I can’t see past this blizzard. It came from nowhere. The Jotun, should Jotun it prove to be, came from nowhere. Suddenly, it was just standing there. It’s not doing anything, as far as I can tell. I do not know what-“

The window suddenly showed the Jotun again. Judging by Odin’s frown and the gestures he was making, it wasn’t supposed to.

“Children. You have grown to cover this realm. You have built upon its bones and raised towers up unto the heavens. You have tamed this temperate world so that it might suit your warm blood.” The Jotun said. Or rather, didn’t. Its lips didn’t move. Unlike Odin’s talk with Heimdall, there was no sense that the voice was coming from the window. It seemed to be heard directly by the brain without passing though the ears. It also made Natasha feel as though someone had stuck an icicle into her brain. Looking around, she saw that every Asgardian was afflicted in the same way that she was. “This does not please me. The very fact of your existence is an aberration. This will be corrected. This world will be scoured clean by ice and snow.”

Natasha blinked, trying to shake the lingering feeling that someone had just poured a really, really cold milkshake into her skull. Then she blinked again. Then she kept her eyes shut. Opened them again. There was no difference. With her eyes closed, she still saw exactly the same scene as she saw with her eyes open. Which meant that the Jotun was messing with her mind. Natasha wasn’t pleased about that. Even if the person doing it seemed content to just stand there and let his blizzard do all the work for him.

“Well, that covers why its here.” Odin muttered. “Now I just have to make it go away.”

“I’m guessing that’s not-“

“Hush, human.” Odin said. He turned to an Asgardian next to him and said “Check that the Casket is still in the vault, will you?” 

After waiting for the Asgardian to stop clutching his head in pain and actually go, Odin rested his spear on the wall. Without even waiting for Natasha to make some sort of quip about what that looked like, a beam of energy shot out of it. Natasha didn’t bother to make a quip about what that looked like.

Judging by the scene shown on the window, the beam completely missed the Jotun. However, after a few seconds of the beam continued unabated, Natasha saw that Odin was slowly carving a path to the Jotun. A handful of seconds later, it hit him.

Natasha didn’t know what she had expected to happen. Possibly that the Jotun would melt, or turn into steam, or possibly shrug off the effect of the beam as though it was nothing. But it just disintegrated. The storm began to dissipate preternaturally fast. Natasha heard the distant sound of cheers.

Odin, however, did not look pleased. 

~*~

Willow didn’t like the cold. It was why, after Sunnydale had collapsed, she had spent a lot of time in Brazil. It was warm there. It was also why, after it was declared that a Slayer outpost was going to be built in Portugal to deal with a group of warlocks trying to bring about the Fifth Empire, she had volunteered to help. From there, it hadn't been much of a trip to deepest, darkest Yakutsk to help Dawn. A mere sixteen hour flight.

Willow understood why there needed to be an outpost in Yakutsk. Yeti were dangerous. The fact that neither Illyria nor Dawn seemed particularly bothered by the fact that the weather was below freezing for more than half the year was just a bonus. Willow was looking forward to returning to Portugal. She could finally get warm again.

So, while Willow was having dinner with Illyria, Dawn and the few Slayers who managed to bear the cold, Willow didn’t think much of the fact that it felt a little bit chilly. It seemed reasonable enough to her. It was about minus 35 degrees Fahrenheit outside, so being a little cold made sense.

However, when she steadily seemed to be getting colder and colder, she began to wonder if there might be something wrong with the heating. However, given that no one else seemed to be feeling more than usually cold she just assumed that she was coming down with something and began looking forward even more eagerly to the sunny plains of Portugal.

Oddly enough, it was Illyria who first drew attention to Willow’s condition. “Is it your intention to lower your body temperature, or is something ailing you?”

“Now that you mention it, it is a bit cold.” Willow admitted. That was what she planned to say. And it was more or less what it sounded like she said, although she slurred her words somewhat because her tongue seemed to be rather numb, and her teeth were chattering. Steam blossomed from her mouth with every breath.

“God, Will!” Dawn exclaimed. “You’re freezing! Why didn’t you say something?”

Willow didn’t feel up to answering. She was too cold to shiver, which she dimly realised was a very bad sign. A Slayer dashed off to get an aluminium blanket and some extra clothes.

It was the same thing that had happened to Willow earlier, Dawn realised. Admittedly, Willow hadn't yet reached the point that she had ice crystallising in her hair, but Willow wasn’t even casting a spell this time. “What’s happening to her?” Dawn said, not really expecting an answer. She gingerly wrapped her arms around Willow, trying to warm the frozen witch.

“It would appear that her body heat is leaking away.” Illyria said blandly.

Dawn looked up into the ice blue eyes of the Old One. “Leaking? Where’s it leaking to?”

Illyria didn’t answer. “Did she cast any spells in an attempt to ascertain where I sent the Black Widow?”

“Yes.” Dawn replied. “Why? Is this because of what you did? What’s going on, Blue?”

Illyria didn’t reply. Instead, space folded around her, making Dawn feel dizzy. She sat down with a thump. By the time her head cleared enough that she could see straight, Illyria had vanished.

~*~

“What was that thing, then, if it wasn’t a Frost Giant?” Natasha asked.

Odin didn’t answer. Someone else did.

“That is what your kind would call an Old One.” Illyria said, leaning against the wall. She seemed somewhat out of sorts. Natasha got the distinct impression that Illyria hadn't fallen over for two reasons – one, there happened to be a handy wall to lean on, and two, Illyria refused to fall over in front of them.

It took Natasha a second to realise that Illyria had spoken in the present tense. She also noticed that Illyria’s attention was focused on something behind her.

Natasha turned to see snow swirling. Not in the same way that it had when there had been nothing out there but the blizzard. No, this time it seemed to be heading in one direction. Coalescing in a single place.

Before Natasha realised what was going on, the Frost Giant (or Old One, she supposed) was standing there. There were, however, two differences.

Firstly, there was no blizzard. This meant that Natasha could see the Old One clearly.

Secondly, the Old One was big. Really big. Not Hulk big, or even Chitauri Leviathan big. Big as in twice the height of a skyscraper big. Big as in the sort of thing that could use a skyscraper as a baseball bat.

“That would be Ymir.” Odin said dryly.


	6. Chapter Six

Hearing Ymir speak felt like having your scalp pulled off and then filling your skull with something very cold which just so happened to make you think that someone had just spoken to you. It was painful, yes, and unpleasant.

It didn’t, however, match up to Ymir’s laugh. It felt, Natasha thought later, as though someone had turned her bones into ice and then pushed her down a flight of stairs. She didn’t think it just then, though. At the time, she just felt broken, like something had snapped inside.

“Illyria. You have fallen far. Even farther than I. You cannot know how much it amuses me to see you trapped in one of these warm, weak bodies when you were once so strong.”

Natasha didn’t hear that. She was huddled on the floor, arms wrapped around her head, trying to recover from Ymir’s laugh. She wasn’t capable of thought at that point, far less listening to an icy voice projecting itself in her head.

Gradually, though, she became aware of something other than that laugh, which still felt like it was echoing through her bones. It was a simple thing. Just a touch on her arm, such as she might use to check if someone still had a pulse. The hand was cold, and it wasn’t going away. The cold was gently, slowly creeping up her arm. Normally, Natasha wouldn’t have been pleased about this – slow, creeping cold generally being a bad sign – but it felt so much better than the alternative that she felt only relief.

The sense of pressure on her wrist was removed, but the sense of coldness remained, steadily spreading. Dimly, as though from a great distance, she heard voices. “I see that you two are acquainted.”

“You might say that. I was there when he fell.” Natasha heard something like humour in Illyria’s voice. “I was amongst those who pushed him.”

The cold had reached her head by that point, and although she felt like she had a mild brain freeze Natasha found that she could think, a least a little. Enough that she was aware that what Illyria was saying didn’t fit with what she knew of Norse mythology. Odin had killed Ymir, and made the world out of his blood and bones and flesh. At least, that was the story.

“How?” this voice belonged to Odin. Natasha didn’t know how he was capable of speech, not after that laugh.

“We broke him and salted several realms with his remains so that he might not come together again.”

There was a pause. Then “Didn’t seem to work out so well, really.”

“It would appear not.”

Natasha moved, slightly. She put her hands beneath her, ready to push herself up. It hurt, but not nearly as much as she thought she would. She steeled herself and heaved herself upright. She felt dizzy, leant against a wall, waiting until spots stopped dancing before her eyes.

When they did, she saw Illyria’s eyes, as cool and dispassionate as ice, looking at her calculatingly. “That is unexpected. I did not expect a human to survive a mental assault of that nature.”

“I do not think that now is the time to be concerned with mysteries.” Odin said. “We should pay more attention to the being which wishes to lay waste to my planet.”

As if on cue, Ymir moved. It was like seeing the drift of a glacier, except taking place in a single second rather than over centuries. He struck the force field protecting the city, which rippled. There was a sound not unlike that of an empty steel barrel being hit by a stick, only many times louder.

“The shield will not hold against many more assaults like that.” Odin said. “Save for us three, everyone else is unconscious or worse. We need a plan.”

The voice came again, breaking into their heads as surely as an icy wind into a poorly insulated cottage. “What plan do you imagine can avail you? Your tiny, weak bodies will become frozen beneath a land of eternal winter. My children will rise and spread through every realm. Frost will cover all.”

“I take it that trying to get the Frost Giants to help out is out of the question, then.” Natasha said drily.

“It would seem so.” Odin said. This seemed to amuse him, for some reason. “I, however, have a plan.”

“I require the use of whatever dimensional bridge it is that your race uses.” Illyria said.

“Why? You can transport yourself to other dimensions easily enough.”

Illyria, who was still leaning against a wall and had moved as little as possible since her arrival, didn't reply. She certainly wasn’t going to admit why she wasn’t transporting herself.

“I can’t go with you and show you how to use it. You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.” Odin said.

Illyria would’ve said something about how she had been crossing dimensions since before the Asgard species had even come into existence, but was cut off when Ymir hit the shield again. So, instead, she just listened to Odin’s hurried directions, and then walked off as steadily as she could.

“You should go with her.” Odin said. “This place isn’t safe, not for your kind. You would do well to return to Earth.”

Natasha looked at him, and then down at her wrist, and then at the assorted unconscious Asgardians. “I don’t think so. I came here to find Loki. I’m not leaving now that I have.”

She expected some reaction from Odin (or, as she believed him to be, Loki). Either a furious denial, or an attempt to throw her over the balcony, or something. She didn’t expect just to stand there and stare at her.

There was no shifting, no intermediate phase. One moment, Odin stood in front of her, and the next it was Loki. “You’re intelligent, for one of your kind.” And he turned and left.

Ymir hit the shield again, and this time the sound was different. It sounded almost as though something had cracked. 

A blizzard began to start up again.

~*~

Willow had never had cause to regret her intelligence. It was, in many ways, at the core of what she was. Everything, from her shy, geeky days as a science nerd to her becoming one of the most powerful witches in the world was based on her intelligence. It had saved her – saved the world – many, many times.

However, at that moment, Willow wished that she wasn’t quite so intelligent. She wished she didn’t know, for example, what hypothermia was, or what the symptoms were, or what they inevitably led to.

She wished she didn’t know that her drowsiness, the lack of shivering, her inability to move or her slow, laboured breathing were signs of severe hypothermia. She knew that she shouldn’t even be conscious, let alone capable of thinking. She could only assume that the reason she wasn’t was because whatever was affecting her was preventing her from blacking out. She assumed that she was going to stay conscious and fully aware of what was happening while she steadily got colder and colder, until she reached the point where her heart simply stopped beating. She wished she didn’t know that.

She was barely aware of what was going on outside her own body at that point, but she did notice that there was a sudden dazzling light. She heard voices, and realised that she should probably at least try and pay attention to what was going on.

“I have discovered what is wrong with her.”

“Really? What’s happening, then? And where did you go?”

“The spell that she used to discover where I sent the Black Widow inadvertently crossed several dimensions. It awoke the mind of the dead Old One known in your tongue as Ymir, who followed the path that she opened allowing him to return to life on Asgard, where he is currently laying siege to their city. Ymir is currently drawing upon Willow’s magical faculties to mentally assault Asgard. Willow is coping poorly with having her abilities used in this fashion.”

Under different circumstances, Willow might have found that somewhat amusing, in a totally not amusing way. All she had done was try to find out where someone had gone, and as a result she was being used by a freaking Old One to lay waste to a planet. As it was, though, Willow just felt confused. She wasn’t really capable of taking in the information. She was barely capable of focusing on Illyria when she leant down in front of her.

“Willow. I require you to do something in order to prolong your survival. Can you hear me?”

Willow could. She just couldn’t really indicate that she could. It was hard enough to muster the focus to even pay attention to Illyria.

“If you wish to live, I suggest that you try to follow my commands. Firstly, in your mind, envisage a realm of flame. Even the sky itself appears to be aflame. Around you, creatures of fire walk. Do you see it?”

Willow, who at that point felt as though she didn’t even remember what warmth was, let alone fire, tried her best. She found that she was imagining a realm that looked a great deal like Mordor.

“If you do, then you must cast the same spell that you cast to find the Black Widow. Direct the spell towards that realm.”

Willow would normally have protested, saying that the spell didn’t work that way, that magic didn’t work that way. However, she wasn’t really looking forward to being frozen to death while still conscious, so she gave it a go. She was glad that the spell didn’t require any chanting or hand gestures, because she really wasn’t up to those.

It took her a long time. She didn’t know just how long, but it certainly felt like at least a hundred years. But, eventually, she conjured the tiny disc of light, and she tried to send it to a place that only existed in her mind. It shouldn’t have worked, and it wouldn’t have, were it not for the fact that she felt as though someone had grabbed her spell and was shoving it into a different direction, forcing it to go somewhere else rather than just floating around. The disc seemed to fold in on itself.

To say that Willow suddenly felt as though she had been flooded by warmth would be inaccurate. She felt more like she had been stuck inside an iceberg that had just been shoved into an oven. She wasn’t warm, no, but she felt like she was thawing out. She felt like she would be warm eventually.

She could also see, laid over the world in front of her like a film of thin gauze, the fiery realm that Illyria had told her to imagine, complete with giants made of fire.

~*~

Loki knew none of this. He could hear the cold wind whistling, even here, in the deepest part of Asgard, as Ymir eroded the shield, but he paid it no heed. He walked down into the Vault, passing the prone body of the Asgardian that he had tasked to come down here. He walked farther, into the most secure part of the Vault.

He did not stop until he came to an artefact known as the Casket of Ancient Winters.


	7. Chapter Seven

Dawn knew that, for every apocalypse that was preceded by omens and prophecies and just general ominous forebodings, there were those that came from nowhere. The business with Loki, for example, had taken the Slayers completely by surprise. They’d travelled en mass to Germany, thinking that something big was going to happen there, but they had been too late to get back to New York.

Then there was this. It had started simply, with someone asking them to get them somewhere. And now here was Willow, having her mind used by some ancient abomination who wanted nothing more than to destroy every hot-blooded being in the universe. It certainly seemed like this was the sort of crisis that just blew up out of nowhere.

Dawn most likely would have treated it as such, were it not for one thing.

The way Illyria was acting didn’t fit. Nothing that Illyria had done, from the sudden demonstration of power that had transported Natasha to Asgard to making Willow make some sort of connection with what Dawn recognised as Muspelheim, fit with the Old One’s general conduct. Illyria was cold, and standoffish, and generally kept herself to herself. She didn’t like helping people – indeed, she saw kindness of that sort as below her. She certainly didn’t like to make her abilities known. She had outright refused to see how her strength measured against that of a Slayer, for example.

But here she was, saving Willow, helping Natasha, and transporting herself all over the place. Illyria just wasn’t like that. To Dawn, this suggested one thing. This whole situation was, in some way, planned by Illyria. She just wasn’t sure why. She couldn’t imagine what Illyria hoped to gain by Ymir turning up and killing everyone.

But, now that Willow seemed to be slowly thawing out, and there didn’t seem to be any imminent danger, Dawn was going to do her best to find out.

~*~

The thing about Jotuns, Loki reflected, was that you could always tell that they were Jotuns. Beings that appeared to be made out of ice couldn’t readily be confused with anything else. The fact that Loki didn’t look like one was due to his innate talent for sorcery, which he had developed at a very early age. Before that, well, he supposed he had his mother to thank. He owed Frigga a lot.

Loki didn’t need to hide now. He could use all his power to master the energies of the Casket. He could drop the disguise that he had held for so long that he wasn’t even aware that he was hiding his true appearance. He could walk the halls of Asgard wearing his true face, the one that he had born with.

But he didn’t. When he reached out to touch the Casket, he did so as Loki of Asgard. Even as held the power of the entire realm of Jotunheim in his hands, something that only a Jotun could do, he still wore the face of an Asgardian.

Ymir’s voice came to him. This time, it was as soft as whisper, barely audible over the roar of the power surging through his veins. “Why do you oppose me, child? It was I who gave your species life. I wish for nothing more than to see your kind spread throughout the nine realms. I bear you no ill will. Why, then, do you wish to raise your hand against me? I can elevate you further than you could ever reach by yourself.”

Loki didn’t reply. He simply watched as frost spread like spider webs from where he stood, until the entire room resembled nothing so much as the frozen wastes of the realm where he had born. Then he turned and walked out, and the cold followed.

~*~

“Okay, Blue.” Dawn said, her arms crossed. “Spill. What are you up to?”

Illyria tilted her head. “I do not understand. What are you referring to?”

Dawn waved a hand. “This whole thing. It all kicked off because of what you did to the Black Widow. So, I want to know what your plan is.”

“I did not know that the Black Widow would come here. I did not know that she would wish to go to Asgard. I did not know that you would call Willow here, in an attempt to find out where she had gone. I did not know that Willow would use a spell to do so. I could not possibly create a plan if I were not aware of all of these variables. Your accusation is invalid.” Illyria responded coolly. “If there is nothing else you wish to discuss, then I will return to my chambers. Inform me if there is any change in the witch’s condition.” So saying, she turned and began to walk off down the corridor.

“Hold on a second, Illyria.” Dawn said. “It’s true that you couldn’t have known about Romanoff coming here. But you had to know how I would react when you refused to me how you sent her to Asgard. For all I know, you could have been planning something like this for ages and you just decided to start the ball rolling when she showed up.”

Illyria didn’t turn around when she spoke. “I once ruled a domain so vast that your countries today would have paled beside the least of my cities. My kingdom spread through as many dimensions as there are stars. I was supreme. Now I am nothing more than memories trapped in a shell too fragile to hold even a fraction of my power. My armies are gone. My cities are less even than dust. I cannot return to what I once had. You have said yourself that it is pointless to dwell in the past, that I must make do with what I have. Why, then, would I risk it? Even this diminished shell is better than oblivion, which will be my sure and certain destination should Ymir ever reach this realm. Whatever you believe me to be guilty of, I assure you, I am not.”

This time, Dawn let Illyria walk away.

~*~

The shield around the city was breaking, Natasha could see. Around the area where Ymir had hit it, around the area where the blizzard still swirled, Natasha could only see the world through some kind of yellow tint. She didn’t doubt that it was only a matter of time before it went down completely, at which point everyone would freeze to death.

Speaking of freezing to death, the temperature had suddenly plummeted. Natasha’s breath was steaming in front of her, frost was climbing the walls in double time, and a wind had suddenly started up inside the shield which forcibly reminded Natasha of the Arctic. She was glad that she’d been dressed for an average day in Yakutsk when Illyria had transported her, because even without them she felt cold.

However, it wasn’t until Natasha saw Loki walking out in the courtyard below, with ice following him like a faithful and very cold puppy that she realised that the sudden weather change had nothing whatsoever to do with Ymir.

Natasha was confused. This whole situation made no sense to her. She didn’t know what Loki was doing, she didn’t know why Illyria had suddenly appeared and just as suddenly decided to leave again, and she didn’t know why, for just a second, the blizzard had stopped. Seeing snowflakes suspended in the air as though the wind and gravity was nothing was perhaps the oddest thing she had ever seen.

She did know, however, that Loki had left Odin’s staff behind. She didn’t know if she could use it. She didn’t know if she would be of any help even if she could. But it was there. If it came to it, she could at least try to use it. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

~*~

Loki was, by Asgardian standards, small and slight. His adopted race had always towered over him. Even beside his real father, Laufey, Loki had appeared as no more than a child. Ymir could probably crush him to death with his little toe, if he so chose. Surely he couldn’t possibly expect to fight someone so large or so powerful. Ymir had created his race, after all. He should surrender, ally himself with the Old One. Not even Thanos would be able to stand against him if he had Ymir on his side. If only he would give in, surrender, quit…

Loki smiled up at the ancestor of all Frost Giants. He spoke, and though he did not raise his voice the ice seemed to catch it and augment it until it reverberated throughout the city. “Is that the best that you can do? My mind is my own. Do not seek to sway it.”

“I seek only to turn your mind to the truth. You cannot win here. Triumph is impossible for one such as you. You are weak, while I am strong. Even with that artefact you hold, you cannot match the power of true winter.”

“Can I not?” Loki whispered, and this was not augmented.

Instead, the ice begin to retract, flowing towards him, building beneath his feet until he stood atop a tower. “I meet you on your own terms. I will fight you till my last breath. For Asgard.”

As if in answer, the shield fell, and Ymir’s arm snapped out as fast as thought, sweeping Loki from his perch.

~*~

When Dawn came back to see how Willow was doing, she was relieved to see that the redhead was shivering. Dawn had lived in the region long enough to know that shivering was a good sign. “How are you feeling?”

“A-a-are you k-kidding?” Willow stuttered, teeth clacking audibly. “I f-f-feel awful.”

“Yeah, well.” Dawn sat down heavily. “We’ll find a way to sever your connection to Ymir, and then you’ll be as right as rain. As opposed to what you are now, which is as right as a blizzard.”

Willow scowled. “T-that’s not even c-close to funny.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty heartless of me to tease you when you’re like this.” Dawn leant closer. “You could even call it cold.”

“Why don’t you sh-shut up and go ask I-I-Illyria how to fix me?” Willow replied angrily. “Before I-I come over there and try to share your b-body heat?”

Dawn waved the threat away. “She doesn’t know.”

“Well, s-she knew enough to make me imagine M-Mordor, and she’s teleporting all over the place, so I'm pretty sure she’s involved in this.”

“I just accused her of masterminding this whole thing, actually. She convinced me she didn’t.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Dawn, for someone who’s supposed to be s-smart, you can be really stupid.”

Dawn looked offended. “I’m not the one getting Mordor and Muspelheim mixed up.”

Willow adopted the tone of a schoolteacher, although the effect was somewhat spoiled by her shivering and chattering teeth. “Dawn, who do we know who can open portals to other d-dimensions?”

“Illyria.” Dawn answered without hesitating. “Duh.”

“D-don’t make me roll my eyes at you again. Who else?”

“How is that you can go from basically being an ice cube to being all Socratic in about 5 minutes?” Dawn asked acidly. “Can’t you just tell me the answer?”

“You, Dawn. Y-you’re the Key. I-if Illyria is telling the truth and Old Ones can leech abilities from people…” Willow trailed off meaningfully, and also to sneeze.

Dawn finished her sentence. “…then she could have taken that ability from me without me even noticing. I’ve been living with that - that thing for years, and she’s been acting like a parasite all this time? I’m going to kill her.”


	8. Chapter Eight

To say that Illyria’s room was Spartan would miss a perfect opportunity to call it empty. Besides a single chair, there wasn’t anything in it. No bed, no window. Illyria didn’t even sit on the chair, preferring to sit on the floor. Dawn had never worked out why there was a chair there, given that almost no one came into Illyria’s room and the Old One was definitely the sort of person who would enjoy making someone stand. It was a far cry from the palatial room that Dawn might have expected a former God-King to have.

But Dawn wasn’t interested in that just now. “So, you’ve been stealing power from me.”

Dawn had expected Illyria to deny everything, or throw her through a wall for her impertinence, or just stay silent and sit still. She hadn’t expected Illyria to just say “I’m surprised it took you that long to realise.”

Dawn didn’t mention that she wouldn’t have, had Willow not basically come right out and told her. Instead, she asked “Why?” It was a stupid question, she knew. While she had been walking here, she had told herself that she wouldn’t, because it was obvious why. Whatever relationship Illyria had with the Council, it was purely a matter of convenience. If she had the chance to get even a little power back, Dawn didn’t doubt for a second that Illyria would take it. But the question just slipped out anyway.

“I cannot fathom the minds of you humans.” Illyria said. There wasn’t any scorn in her voice – she sounded genuinely bemused. “Even now, you’re still asking the wrong questions.”

Dawn blinked, thrown. “What? What’s the right question then?”

Illyria had been sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, not even looking at Dawn. Now, she was barely an inch away. She hadn’t even seemed to cross the intervening space. Illyria wasn’t that much taller than Dawn, but from this distance with those icy inhuman blue eyes staring at her unblinkingly, Dawn had to force herself not to back away. She refused to give ground. “The right question, the question that you should have asked as soon as you met me, is “Hey, Illyria. You’re an Old One, right? So you’ve probably been around the block a few times. Ever come across something called the Key?”

Dawn ignored that Illyria had suddenly started speaking with her voice, dropping her usual stilted style. “Why would I ask that? I’m barely even the Key anymore. I don’t open anything. Besides, I know what the Key is.” She paused. “Don’t I?”

“Sit.” Illyria said, returning to her normal style of speaking. Her tone suggested that there wasn’t even a possibility of disobeying. “This may take some time.”

Dawn sat in the chair, and waited for Illyria to speak.

“Do you recall where you were, while the events in Greenwich were unfolding?”

Dawn did. She had been here, just as she had been for the last two years. The difference was, a couple of days before Elves had invaded Greenwich, she had been struck by a mysterious fever. She didn’t remember much – she’d been pretty out of it – but she’d been told that she had suddenly collapsed and her temperature had rocketed. She’d recovered a few days after Thor had dealt with the Elves. Dawn nodded. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Reality is malleable. With enough power, it can be shaped to one’s desire. At the height of my power, I could reshape continents with a thought.” Illyria paused, apparently lost in her nostalgia for the old days. “I do not remember who first discovered the gem. It was a long time ago, and things have changed since then. I do recall that the gem made it easier, much easier, to alter reality. Too easy, one might say. There was one of us who wielded it carelessly and accidently wrote himself out of the universe. The fallout was catastrophic. Even we, mighty as we were, barely survived. So we contained the gem’s power, as much as we could, and hid it so it could never be used. It should never have been found. If used, its power could remake the cosmos.”

“You’re talking about the Aether, right?” Dawn asked. “The thing that the Elves wanted to use to make the world dark again?” Dawn wondered, not for the first time, just how old Illyria was. Thanks to Willow and dozens of witches with the Sight, the Council had eventually managed to figure out just what had happened at Greenwich and why. One of the things that they had discovered was that the Elves had come from before the universe, and that they had used the Aether before. Dawn wondered how it was possible that Illyria could have used it before them. She wondered if that question even made sense, given its power.

“No.” Illyria said simply. “Until the witch discovered what transpired at Greenwich, I had no knowledge of the existence of the Aether. I am referring to the Key. To you.”

~*~

Loki had taken a lot of punishment in his life. He had been tossed around like a ragdoll by the Hulk. He’d travelled through interdimensional portals and stood in the presence of Thanos. None of that compared to being hit by Ymir. It wasn’t just that the single blow had been stronger than the Hulk’s. it wasn’t just that, while holding the Casket Loki was many, many times stronger than he would normally and Ymir had still managed to know him aside as though he was a fly. It was the casual contempt that radiated from Ymir, telling Loki that he was so far beneath Ymir’s notice that he should be honoured that such a great being was taking the time to trample him into dust.

Loki, however, had felt that sort of thing before. For centuries, for millennia, he had to deal with Thor and his friends’ casual assumption that Loki was worthless because he couldn’t fight, because he didn’t feel the mindless joy of battle and instead chose the coward’s way out by learning magic. He wasn’t going to lie here and get belittled again. He wasn’t even going to wait until he got his breath back.

Light pulsed through the sky. Natasha, Loki realised dimly. He’d left her the staff. She was fighting. He should probably help – if he didn’t, Ymir would crush her and Loki didn’t want to think about what would happen if the giant got his oversized hands on the staff.

~*~

Natasha supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised that Ymir had so casually knocked Loki flying. The Old One had just broken his way in through a force field just by punching it. But Loki had seemed in control, as though he knew what he was doing. She had thought that he had some spectacularly devious and multi-layered plan up his sleeve.

A treacherous voice in the back of her head suggested that this might well be the case, and that Loki was just waiting until Ymir killed her so that he could safely go back to being Odin after all of this was over, and he could tragically claim that he had tried to save her but hadn’t been able to. Natasha ignored this, and picked up the staff. She didn’t have the faintest idea of how to fire it – she couldn’t find any sort of mechanism – but it had looked like Loki had just pointed it at Ymir and-

The staff fired. It even hit Ymir, although it didn’t seem to do all that much. Natasha suddenly found that she didn’t mind all that much.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Natasha had spent her life around weapons of one sort or another. While she wasn’t like some agents she had met, who actively enjoyed the thrill of the fight, she’d be lying if she said it didn’t hold some attraction for her. She’d been raised that way. But using this weapon… she’d never felt anything like this. The sheer rush of power, of knowing that with a thought she could send put a pulse of energy capable of levelling buildings… it was intoxicating. She was fully aware of the possibility that the staff might be influencing her somehow, but she didn’t really mind.

She fired again, this time willing the staff to hit harder. Ymir turned, seemingly as unbothered by this as Natasha might be by a mosquito bite, and made his way towards her. Natasha fired again. Ymir took no notice and drew back a fist to pulverize Natasha. Meanwhile, the psychic recoil or whatever it was that she felt meant that the staff fell from her nerveless fingers.

~*~

“What?” said a thoroughly confused Dawn. “You’re talking about the Key? Then why… everything you were saying fit the Aether. I mean, the Elves even wanted to use it to remake the universe, and you can’t tell me that messing around with gravity doesn’t count as reality warping. What are you talking about?”

“Dawn, you are the Aether. Or the Aether is you.” Illyria said, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That doesn’t make any sense! The Aether was hidden away in some pocket dimension or something, just like you said, and… look, I can’t be in two places at once. That’s just now possible!”

“Why? I once ruled over six kingdoms, and each of me acknowledged me as the High King. Bilocation isn’t all that difficult, if you have the power. It happens on a quantum level all the time. The energy of the Key – or the Aether – is more than potent enough to achieve that effect on a macroscopic level.”

“But…” Dawn trailed off, not sure what to say next. It might well explain her mysterious illness, last time the Aether had been used. As usual, she couldn’t tell if Illyria was lying or not. “What does this have to do with you leeching power from me, though?”

“It saved your life.”

Dawn laughed. She couldn’t help herself. Illyria was lying. She had to be lying. She’d concocted this entire fantastic story, just so that she could come out with that. Just so that Dawn would be grateful that Illyria was stealing her power. “You’ve got to be kidding me. No way did you start taking my power because of me. I know you, Blue. You’re way too selfish for that.”

Illyria tilted her head. “I did not say that I drew power from you for the sole purpose of keeping you alive. That was merely a by-product. I desired your power. The fact that it stabilised you and prevented you from degenerating was just a bonus.”

Oh. That made a lot more sense, actually. Dawn could so easily imagine Illyria doing something just because she wanted to, and if it allowed Dawn to stay stable then so much the better – Illyria would be able to feed off of her that much longer.

But one thing still needed to be cleared up. “Why are you helping the Black Widow, then? And don’t tell me it’s because you’ve finally decided to act like a human, because we both know that’s never going to happen.”

Illyria shrugged, which surprised Dawn. She had never seen the Old One express anything less than absolute certainty. “Leeching is an imprecise process. Perhaps I have some of your compassion.” Illyria said the last word as though it was a curse. “Certainly, you have gained some of my ruthlessness.”

“No I haven’t.” Dawn said instantly.

Illyria just looked back at her blankly. “Do not pretend that you are not supressing your desire to call your sister so that she may use the scythe to execute me for the effrontery of taking your power. In any case, it is of no consequence. It is time to see to the witch.”

Before Dawn even had a chance think about responding, Illyria had left the room.


	9. Chapter Nine

Contrary to popular opinion, when Natasha saw Ymir’s fist streaking towards her, her life didn’t flash before her eyes. She didn’t wish that she could have said goodbye to someone, or mended some of the many, many regrets she had.

She just thought that coming here had been really stupid. She’d come here looking for Loki, the man who had lead an army that had almost conquered the Earth, and she had come without back up or even telling anyone where she was going. It had been stupid, and she was going to die because of it. She’d been on crazy suicide solo missions before, and this one was stupid even by those standards.

Because of this, and her impending death, she almost missed the frost which was rapidly creeping up the walls around her. But she was a spy, had been for almost her entire life. She didn’t miss things.

As a result, she wasn’t entirely surprised when a sheet of ice flashed up in front of her, only to crack and shatter when Ymir hit it. It regrew almost instantly.

Meanwhile, the frost had spread to the floor immediately in front of Natasha. It formed a line of complex, angular symbols that Natasha didn’t recognise. The symbols promptly melted away, to be replaced by an alphabet that Natasha did recognise.

If you can read this, follow the frost. Leave the staff.

Natasha watched as the script faded away, and a line sped away, inside the building. Natasha hesitated for a second, before thinking that even a regenerating wall of ice wouldn’t hold Ymir for long. Whatever this was, whatever Loki was doing, it had to be worth a shot.

Shivering, she followed the frost as fast as she could. Behind her, the frost crept over the staff that she had left behind. When Ymir hit the ice wall again, it didn’t regenerate. In fact, it melted without leaving so much as a single sign that it had ever been there.

The staff wasn’t there, either.

~*~

Illyria, as a rule, didn’t ask how people were doing. It wasn’t just that she didn’t care, although she didn’t. If you were there, alive and functioning, that was all she needed to know. The degree to which people functioned wasn’t of interest to her.

Willow knew that, so when Illyria walked in, bent down so that her eyes were level with Willow’s and asked “How are you feeling?” she couldn’t help but take it as a bad sign. Of course, she knew that this entire situation was bad but there wasn’t anything quite like having an unusually solicitous God-King to drive that home.

“Strange.” Willow admitted. “I feel like I'm hot and cold at the same time, but not warm, you know? Like I'm both but not what you would get what when you add them together. Why hasn’t Dawn killed you, by the way?”

“I gave her some information which she is processing. What actions she takes based on it is her own affair.” Illyria replied coolly.

“I see.” Willow said in a tone which said just the opposite.

“Now that you are no longer in imminent danger of death, I require you to do something.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“You must break the bond that Ymir has made with you. You have to make sure that he can no longer siphon power from you.”

~*~

Ymir’s voice echoed in Natasha’s mind as she walked. “Why do you run, warm one? I will find you. I will tear this city to the ground and bury it under miles of ice. Surrender now, and your death will be swift and merciful. If you continue to defy me, your suffering will set an example to all for every age to come.”

Natasha wondered absently if everything even tangentially related to Asgard had to speak in this flowery language. Back on Earth, if someone was going to kill you they’d just kill you, rather than sitting around and talking about it. It was why the Winter Soldier had been so dangerous. Ymir was too busy threatening to actually do anything.

There was a rumble, and the wind began to flow – even here, in the heart of Asgard. The temperature, which was already uncomfortably low, dropped several more degrees. Natasha didn’t need to look outside to know that the blizzard had started up again.

~*~

Willow blinked. “Right. Yeah. Like I haven’t been thinking about how to do that already. I doubt it’s as easy as salting a leech, Blue.”

“That is correct.” Illyria said, either ignoring or not noticing Willow’s tone. “It is considerably harder and more dangerous. However, if you do not do so, then you will die. The link that I have made between you and Muspelheim will delay this, but soon Ymir will overwhelm that. You will die, and Ymir will use your magic to conquer Asgard. From there, he will spread throughout the realms. Now, are you ready to break the link?”

Willow nodded.

~*~

Loki stood, with some difficulty. He was stronger than a human, more durable, but he could not shake off being hit so hard that he had broken through a wall as though it was nothing. Even with the power of the Casket rushing through him.

But Natasha was on her way now, and Ymir spread out as a blizzard trying to find her. If he didn’t get up now, then… well, there’d be all sorts of problems. Not the least of which would be the death of every Asgardian here, just for starters.

So Loki stood, and once again built a platform of ice which towered high above the buildings. “Face me, Ymir! Do not cower behind this veil of snow. You will not triumph here.”

The reply seemed to come from all around him. “Why should I? I have no quarrel with you, child. Your antagonism is…” Ymir trailed off.

“My antagonism is what?” Loki asked, as though he genuinely wanted to hear the end of the sentence.

“It is of no consequence. I have found the human. She will perish, and you will follow shortly after.”

~*~

Finally, Natasha had followed the frost to its destination. She supposed that she should know what it was, but Natasha had spent only a few hours in Asgard before this whole thing had started. She didn’t know what anything was, and most of the technology was so advanced that she couldn’t even begin to guess.

It looked like bridge, a monumentally unsafe bridge, out over to some kind of machine. The problem was, with the blizzard swirling through the air, and the bridge looking slippery even without the ice that was rapidly forming on it and the fact that it had no railings didn’t make Natasha best pleased about the fact it looked like she was going to have to cross it.

Once again the frost formed letters in front of her. Run. NOW!

She paused for a second, wondering if Loki was sending her to her death or Ymir was playing some cruel game with her, before deciding that she was probably going to die anyway and at least this way she might be able to do something. She didn’t know what that might be, but Natasha had gone into situations without all the information before, and this wasn’t any different. Besides, it wasn’t as though she had any other options.

So she ran, taking care to keep her centre of mass low and not over-stride. Even then, she slipped and only a last minute frantic windmilling of her arms saved her from toppling over. 

When she made it to the other side, she looked up to see the blizzard coalesce into the form of a Jotun in front of her.

~*~

“Right.” Willow said. “Staying linked with Ymir is bad. Got it. No surprises there. But, you know, you haven’t actually told me what I'm supposed to do about it.

“He is currently drawing power from you. If you want him to stop, make sure that there is nothing to drain.”

Willow paused for a second before answering. “Okay. You know that makes no sense, right? I mean, you’re saying stuff, but they don’t actually mean anything. What am I meant to do with that?”

“You pull magic from the Earth, from everything around you, constantly. Ymir is then pulling it from you. So give him your magic. All of it. Then there will be nothing more for him to feed on.”

“Whoa there! I'm pretty sure that we don’t want Ymir to have even more magic. That’s bad, right? Yeah, it’s bad. Plus, if I give him my magic then I won’t have any of my own. And that’s bad. Like, way bad. I like having magic.”

Illyria sighed. “Cease your whining, human. Either you do this, or I kill you. Either way the link is severed. It is of no concern to me how it is done. Make your choice.”


	10. Chapter Ten

There is something to be said for a blizzard. It might be very, very cold, it might reduce visibility to virtually zero, so that you could calmly walk off a cliff before you even realised it, but if you knew what you were doing, you could survive them. Natasha had grown used to them, in her youth, and she knew what to do. This blizzard, besides being basically made out of Ymir, seemed to follow the same general principles.

Ymir when he was a Jotun, however, was an entirely different situation. Ymir was just big, and freakishly fast for something its size. It looked like the kind of thing that could pick the Hulk up between two fingers and throw him so hard that he achieved escape velocity. Standing in front of her now, Natasha knew that Ymir could exterminate her as easily as she would a fly. But he seemed content to stand there, growing quickly as more of the blizzard came swirling in.

“You are so afraid, little one.” Ymir said, and the voice, this close, drove Natasha to her knees. “You try to hide it, but I can hear the blood, so hot, coursing through your veins. You cannot hide anything from me.”

Natasha shot him. Not with the hope that it would actually do anything, but just because she thought that it might delay him long enough for Loki to do something, or possibly even for Illyria to show up. Sadly, neither of these things happened and all that was achieved was a waste of ammunition of her hidden guns, and tiny craters on Ymir’s icy skin that healed almost instantly.

“You have spirit, warm one. But I will break it.” Ymir said, with a self-satisfaction that was almost human. Tendrils of ice reached out and wrapped around her. The cold was incredible. Natasha had thought that the temperature of ice could only drop to around -20C, but this was much, much colder. She almost passed out.

~*~

“No, you won’t.” Willow said, with a firmness that she didn’t actually feel. “I mean, I know you like pretending to be all aloof and stuff, but if you actually were as cold as you say you are then you’d have left us and joined some demon mercenary gang or something. You stick with us ‘cause you like us, Blue.”

“I have grown fond of this world, although it is but a shadow of what it once was. I would not see it destroyed because one woman was too scared to give up her magic. Do not try to stand between an Old One and their goals. We do not take such things kindly.” Illyria said in bland voice, as though she was commenting on the weather. “I could snap your neck before you have a chance to call out. No one else is here. No one could stop me from doing it. Except you. You could give Ymir your magic, and then this problem will be solved.”

“But-“

Willow had never seen Illyria be angry, before. She hadn’t seen her be anything other than detached. But she was definitely angry now. “Silence, human! There is to be no debate here! You will do as I say, or you will die. There will be no further discussion of this issue. You have five seconds to make a decision.”

Willow was speechless. This was a whole other side of Illyria, one which she had never seen before. She – in fact, the whole Council had thought of Illyria as a quirky, violent quasi-demon. They had taken her grandiose statements with a pinch of salt, and Illyria had never done anything to disabuse them of this perception. But now, looking at her vibrating with barely contained rage, Willow saw the kind of person who could have made an empire spanning dimensions, that could have made someone like Ymir worship her as a god. She was terrifying, and this was her with the merest fraction of her power. In her heyday, Illyria must have been truly awe-inspiring.

And right now, Willow didn’t have the slightest doubt that Illyria would kill her without a second thought. So she nodded dumbly. “What do I have to do?”

The change was instantaneous. The fury dropped from Illyria like a mask, as she resumed her standard icy, inscrutable expression. “It is like a spell. You direct your magic at whatever you desire, channel it. This time, you channel it at Ymir. All of it. Every last drop.”

~*~

The tentacles dropped Natasha, and dropped her hard. She lay there, trying to focus, frantically checking to see if she had frostbite but not quite able to remember how, but that didn’t really matter because her hands weren’t working the way they were supposed to anyway. She looked up dully, worn out from the effort of even such a tiny movement, and saw Odin’s staff sticking into Ymir’s side. There didn’t seem to be any reason for this, because Loki was nowhere to be seen.

“What is this, Jotun? What do you seek to accomplish with this?” Ymir said. He seemed genuinely confused.

Loki’s voice drifted over to them. It said one word. “This.”

~*~

Asgardian technology was built to last. Unlike human technology, which had built in obsolescence which ensured that upgrades had to be bought ever few years, the Asgard had long since reached their peak and they were happy there. They didn’t need upgrades – what they needed was technology that would last throughout their tremendous life spans.

Odin’s staff, Gungnir, was old even by that standard. It had been Odin’s throughout his long reign, and it had belonged to his father Bor even before that. It was old, yes, but it was strong. It had to be.

But Loki was currently filled with the power of an entire realm. Gungnir might be powerful, but it was nothing compared to that.

~*~

The staff exploded. If Natasha had thought that the shots which she had fired from the staff had been powerful, they were nothing compared to that. It looked as though a sun had ignited a few feet from her face. But she only saw it for the tiniest fraction of a second, before a wall of ice sprang up in front of her. Even so, spots still danced in front her eyes, and she was temporarily blinded. She could feel the heat, even behind the ice. It felt wonderful. It felt as though it had been years since she had been warm.

Gently, slowly, as though afraid that it might break her, ice began to form underneath her, and life her up. It carried her forward, towards the strange Asgardian device that she had seen from across the bridge. She didn’t know what it was, but she did know that there was no machine on Earth that had a sword as the centrepiece.

The ice formed letters rapidly, scrawling them with such speed that even in Natasha’s befuddled state she could still sense the urgency.

Push the sword downwards.

Natasha looked at the sword uncomprehendingly. It was bigger than she was, and probably weighed many times what she did. Maybe an Asgardian would be able to shift it, or Captain America, but she sure couldn’t. She couldn’t even stand.

As though reading her thoughts, the ice wrote You have to try.

So she did. With the ice supporting her, making sure that she didn’t collapse right then and there, she held onto the hilt of the massive sword and tried to push it downwards. In her current state, this essentially meant hanging onto it and hoping that her weight would be sufficient.

She felt… something, questing in her mind. It didn’t feel like the after-effects of using the staff, but some part of her felt that it was similar, the same type of thing. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with Ymir, she could tell that much. This feeling seemed to want to know if she wanted to do something. Perhaps it was because of everything she had been through recently, or perhaps it was because she was human and this machine had been designed for Asgardians, but she didn’t have the faintest idea what it was that she wanted it to do. She didn’t know what it did in the first place, so how could she?

In any case, she said yes.

~*~

Willing one’s magic away, Willow found, was actually surprisingly easy. Perhaps it was because Ymir had already been siphoning it off, but it seemed perfectly willing to leave Willow and go flowing away to the source of the cold that still lingered at the back of her mind. It seemed almost eager, which was strange.

“Good.” Illyria said, satisfied. Willow suddenly wondered if Illyria was heling the process along somehow. After all of she had been stealing power from Dawn for who-knew-how-long, then surely this sort of thing wouldn’t be all that hard for the Old One? “Carry on.”

It was over quickly. Willow could tell, because she felt as though she had lost something, as though she was less than she had been before. She wondered if this was what people felt like, when they lose a limb. Even now, she could feel herself reaching out to touch something that wasn’t there. She made a mental note to talk to Xander about this sort of thing next time she got the chance. “It’s done.”

“Good.” Illyria said again.

“What happens now?”

“Now we wait.”

~*~

The sword plunged itself deep into the ground, up to its hilt, but Natasha didn’t even notice that.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true. She did. She noticed everything. She noticed the sword, and she noticed Ymir slowly coalescing outside the sphere of ice that Loki had made to protect her, and she noticed the void that had opened up at the end of the room that was sucking all the snowflakes through it, and she noticed where the other end of the void opened. She saw glimpse of dozens of worlds through the void, cycling rapidly as the snow got sucked through. Salting dozens, hundreds of worlds with the body of Ymir. Just as Illyria had done, all that time ago.

She saw all of that, and more, she saw everything, the entire universe stretched out before her like a map, like a hologram. She could just reach out and feel it, reshape entire star systems with a touch…

Instead, she passed out.


	11. Epilogue

Willow felt the change. The cold was gone. The presence in the back of her head, that had been dimmed by the removal of her magic but not completely removed, had gone. “It’s gone. The cold. I – what happened? Is it over?”

Illyria smiled. “More or less.”

Then she reached out and touched Willow in the hollow of her throat, just as she had Natasha. The fiery realm, Muspelheim, no longer superimposed over the ordinary world in Willow’s eyes. She felt normal, besides the loss of magic.

The smile dropped from Illyria’s face. “Tell Dawn…” Illyria paused, seemingly at a loss for words. “Tell her that reality is what she makes of it.”

Then the room folded in on itself, and when it unfolded Illyria was gone. Slayers came rushing in, talking about how they’d been trying to get in for what seemed like hours, but the corridors kept leading to strange places, no honestly they did, it had seemed like the whole building had been transformed into some kind of labyrinth.

Dawn followed in after them. She looked around, and then said to herself “She’s gone, then.”

~*~

Natasha came to herself slowly. She felt like a dandelion, blowing away in the wind, except instead of dispersing she was coming back together again, reforming. She remembered seeing everything, the sheer sense of power that that had entailed. She remembered the savage joy of using the staff. She remembered the curious sentience of the sword, asking her a question she didn’t understand.

She opened her eyes, and the room looked incredibly clear. She had perfect eyesight, but this was better than that. She felt as though she could see every detail of the incredibly ornate ceiling as though through a microscope.

“She’s awake!” Natasha saw Sif and two thirds of the Warriors Three sitting by the end of her bed.

“Took her long enough.” Volstagg muttered. “We’re going to miss lunch at this rate.”

“Do you think of nothing else?” Fandral said fondly.

“How do you feel?” Sif said, ignoring them.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Natasha didn’t know how she felt. On the one hand, she felt tired, and battered, and as though she would actually quite like to go back to sleep. On the other hand, she felt amazing, better than she had ever felt before. “What happened?”

“I think Odin wants to talk to you about that.” Fandral said. “He can probably explain it better than we can. Due to us being unconscious for the duration, as it was.”

“I see. Yes. I want to talk to him, too.” We’ll see what ‘Odin’ has to say about all of this.

“He’s on his way. He would have been notified as soon as you awoke.”

This was proved to indeed be the case, as Odin walked through the doors seconds later. “Leave.”

Sif and the others did so.

“You haven’t told them.” Natasha said. Her voice wasn’t accusatory. This man had saved her life, even though she knew his secret. He had also caused untold destruction on her home planet. She wasn’t sure what to do with him just yet.

Loki, still disguised, looked at her thoughtfully. “What if I told you that I wasn’t going to tell them, and I am planning to continue to disguise myself as my… my father and rule in his stead.”

“I don’t know.” Natasha said honestly. “I haven’t decided that yet.”

“In any case, the point is moot. I am calling… I suppose you would call it a press release later this afternoon. I am releasing my father and stepping down. I rather suspect that I will imprisoned for it.”

“Why? Why not continue the façade? No one suspects you.”

Loki paused. “I saved my city today. Me, not Odin. I saved them as myself. I will not rule as someone else.”

Natasha didn’t know what to say to that. “Right then.”

“Will you stay for that? I feel I might need someone to corroborate my story. I rather fear that I will be called a liar.” Loki said wryly.

Natasha thought for a second. The only way she would be leaving Asgard would be if she used the Bifrost. If there was political turmoil, who knew how long it might be before that happened? “Only if you answer a question.”

Loki looked at her enquiringly, but obviously made no promises.

“Am I… different now? I feel different. I feel better, better than I did before.”

There was no shifting, no intermediate phase. One moment, Odin stood in front of her, and the next it was Loki. But not the human-looking Loki that she had seen before. This was quite clearly a Jotun. “Who is to say what is different and what is not?”

~*~

This world was barren. Nothing living had been here for countless millennia. The only thing that moved anywhere on the planet was a handful of snowflakes, flying in a non-existent wind.

There was a distortion, a change in reality, and the world shifted so that Illyria stood on it. She reached out and grabbed a single snowflake. It didn’t melt – not because this world was cold, or because her body temperature wasn’t very high, but because even now the snowflake was trying to reform, coalesce and join with countless other identical flakes spread throughout the nine realms. But it couldn’t.

Illyria looked at it thoughtfully for several long seconds.

Then she ate it.


End file.
